


The Possibilities

by Thorinsmut



Series: The Shadowwalker and The Bulldog [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Complete, Death, Distrust, Gold Sickness, Jailbreaks, Lies, Multi, Orcs eat people, Pegging, STRONG DUBCON WARNING, Sad Ending, Sex, The Shadowwalker just isn't a nice person Ok?, Violence, assassinations, executions, judicial corruption, lives intentionally destroyed, rage sex, rape accusations, so many possible outcomes, there is no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe the shaky equilibrium the Shadowwalker and the Bulldog maintained could last, but maybe it <i>couldn't.</i></p><p>Maybe Dwalin found his proof against Nori, and maybe the Shadowwalker heard of it. Maybe his court watched in fascination as he hesitated before he ordered his best assassin to see to the Bulldog.</p><p>Maybe the Shadowwalker <i>didn't</i> hear about Dwalin's proof.<br/>“Nori the Shadowwalker, this house is surrounded and you are under arrest...” Dwalin said, the rest of his speech drowned out by the shocked protests of the Company and Nori.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!  
> THIS IS NOT A NICE FIC!

Maybe Nori and Dwalin both moved on, the pain of heartbreak fading with time.

Maybe the shaky equilibrium the Shadowwalker and the Bulldog maintained could last, but maybe it _couldn't._

 

Maybe Dwalin found his proof against Nori, and maybe the Shadowwalker heard of it. Maybe his court watched in fascination as he _hesitated_ before calling Ornir to sit with him and ordered his best assassin to see to the Bulldog.

The last thing Dwalin ever heard was a soft whisper in the dark, "Greetings from Shadowwalker." as his lifeblood slipped away.

Dwalin's body was found in a hundred scattered pieces, such a high-profile murder sending shocks rippling through Erebor, and Nori was as upset as the rest of the Company when he drifted through and found out. Maybe the Shadowwalker tended Ornir's wounds from the fight _personally_.

Maybe _no one_ tried to hunt the Shadowwalker anymore, after that.

 

Maybe the Shadowwalker _didn't_ hear about Dwalin's proof. Maybe Nori came to visit his brothers as he did every few years, bringing gifts from the lands he'd visited. Dori had gathered the Company together and they all gathered around to listen to Nori's stories.

There were expressions of surprise when Dwalin came in, because he _never_ attended these gatherings. Maybe it was all he could do not to flinch at Ori's happy smile, the scribe had always advocated for their reconciliation, and loved Nori, and now...

Dwalin watched the expressions turn to alarm when four burly guardsmen followed him in.

“Nori the Shadowwalker, this house is surrounded and you are under arrest...” Dwalin said, the rest of his speech drowned out by the shocked protests of the Company and Nori.

Nori didn't fight or run as the guardsmen shackled him, as Dwalin explained the proof that his superiors had already accepted.

Nori was walked to prison by a dozen of Erebor's best guardsmen, his eyes hard and angry and Dori's snarled threats on his behalf still stinging in Dwalin's ears, Ori's heartbroken refusal to even _look_ at him still aching in Dwalin's heart.

 

Maybe Nori snarled, “You don't even have the stones to do this _yourself?”_ at Dwalin as a pair of guards chained him to the wall of his cell.

“So _now_ I have permission to touch you?” Dwalin asked, the sharp bile of his rage at the Shadowwalker rising in his throat, “Last time I did, you threatened to scatter me across this mountain in a hundred pieces.”

“Don't be _ridiculous_.” Nori snapped back, which did not actually _answer_ the question.

Maybe they argued when the guards left, cursing in each other's faces until somehow they were kissing hard and vicious, until Dwalin's hands were under Nori's clothes and Nori's legs were around his waist and he was shoving his way into the smaller Dwarf's body with nothing but the vegetable oil from the lamp as slick, Nori's eyes wide and his every sound of hunger and desire urging Dwalin for _more_.

Maybe, in the midst of it, the Shadowwalker wrapped his legs tight around Dwalin's body so he couldn't escape and started screaming Rape. Dwalin hit him hard across the face to get him to _let go_ just as the guardsmen showed up, and the Shadowwalker hung from his chains and sobbed with huge tears running down his face as Dwalin threw himself away from him and _tried_ to explain. Dwalin watched his entire world crumble as _he_ was roughly chained to the wall and the Shadowwalker was gently led away, shaking and sobbing and flinching away from people's hands, looking back only once to flash a smile, but only with his teeth, as Dwalin howled his rage and hatred.

Or maybe not. Maybe the Shadowwalker _intended_ to, but Nori was too distracted by how _good_ it felt to be fucked, too carried away with the rough pleasure he loved so much and had denied himself for so many decades that he _forgot_ until it was all over and done and Dwalin had snarled “this never happened” and left him clinging to his chains, dazed and gasping.

Or maybe Dwalin just spat, “How _naive_ do you think I am?” in Nori's face and left him alone and untouched in his prison cell.

 

Maybe the Shadowwalker was patient and leaned against the bars of his cell, rubbing his wrists where they had been chained, and relayed his instructions to his people – putting even-tempered Vir in charge instead of ambitious Leikn and telling Ornir not to do anything rash. Maybe by the end of his first month of incarceration he'd gathered a handful of guards who saluted him and rushed to do his bidding, and he laughed on the inside.

Maybe Nori ran his way through the courts, depending on Dori to hire him the very best of lawyers and pulling the right strings to be sure he was seen by judges who owed the Shadowwalker favors and ended up walking free again in only a few months... but the doubts that still surrounded him made it better to move his court again.

Maybe the Shadowwalker watched the Bulldog's impotent rage as he was declared innocent and laughed until he was _sick,_ but only on the inside.

 

Or maybe not. Maybe the Shadowwalker broke out of jail, laws being things that happened to _other_ people. Maybe Nori climbed in through Ori's window to say goodbye to his little brother.

“I have to go.” He said, “Erebor isn't safe for me right now. I'll write to you. I'll send a Raven.”

“We'll prove your innocence.” Ori promised, “We won't stop fighting. Because you are, aren't you? You wouldn't... would you?” and Nori flinched from Ori's doubts, but only on the inside, as the Shadowwalker cursed the Bulldog's ancestors to the tenth generation.

He kissed Ori's forehead. “I love you.” he whispered, and left back out through the window.

Ornir met the Shadowwalker in a quiet alley, dark shadows and the gleam of gold and an unmistakeable hooked-nose profile. "Where you like I leave Dwalin?” the Eagle asked.

Maybe the Shadowwalker smiled, but only with his teeth, and said “Scatter him across the steps of the Palace.”

Maybe the rage against Dwalin and laws and the unfairness of losing Ori's trust burned bright and hot in the Shadowwalker's stomach the same way the love for gold had so long ago, and he flicked a knife between his fingers with a smile from somewhere very deep inside that had even _Ornir_ taking a step back.

“Dwalin is only the _beginning_.” the Shadowwalker said, and he gathered up a handful of his best assassins and by morning was lying across his couch in the royal treasure chamber, a crown of blood-stained gold on his brow and madness in his eyes. He did not notice as his Hobbit thieves and other more sensible members of his court crept out of the Mountain to disappear.

His reign lasted a week before Leikn killed him, hers only an hour before Ornir killed her, and then it was a bloodbath as guards and soldiers flooded the palace and it was Ornir who was the last caught, the huge southern Dwarf killing indiscriminately as though he would not be happy until every other Dwarf in Erebor was dead.

He was asked why.

“Shadowwalker give me _home_.” he said, his final words before he was forced to his knees for the executioner's axe along with all the others of Nori's coup who had been captured, his dark eyes hard and unrepentant to the end.

Maybe Dis ascended the throne, grief wracked but unbroken, fair but cold, very nearly the only member of the line of Durin to survive the Shadowwalker. She wondered if Dwalin were alive if he would think this slaughter were _worth_ having finally defeated the Shadowwalker, because _Mahal knew_ she didn't.

Or maybe not. Maybe when Ornir asked where to scatter Dwalin's body Nori glanced toward the flickering light in Ori's window, and the Shadowwalker shook his head, “Killing him would just prove him right. I'm _tired_ of Erebor.” and went to inform his court that they would be trying their luck in the Orocarni now.

 

Maybe after his encounter with Dwalin in the prison – however that went – and after he was freed – by whichever means he used – he felt a hunger he thought he'd defeated many decades before when he'd first made himself into the Shadowwalker.

Maybe he went to Ornir, his loyal Eagle, and asked to be fucked. It was hard and rough and more than half a fight because neither could bear to yield an inch to the other. The Shadowwalker laughed afterward, both of them nursing split lips and various bruises.

“We _have_ to do this again.” The Shadowwalker groaned, and the Eagle growled in agreement.

Their inevitable jealousy saw them both dead on each other's knives within a decade.

Or maybe not. Maybe he went to Vir instead – quietly, privately, and stroked the eastern sell-sword's thick dark beard and powerful biceps and asked for something different from what they usually shared. Her dark eyes burned with hunger as she dressed herself in her fitted leather harness and fucked him on her carved jade cock.

He cried out as she brought herself to climax after climax, grinding the base of her cock against her gemstone. She pinned him down with her strong arms and fucked him mercilessly, refusing to allow him to touch his own erection even when he was thrashing and begging for what seemed like _hours_ before she succeeded in wringing his climax out of him untouched.

Nori whimpered softly and trembled and all over when it was over, and Vir wrapped him up in her arms and the blankets, humming soothing sounds. He buried his face against her neck, hiding under the red-beryl beads in her beard.

“It's been so long... I've _always_ loved to take, always.” he confessed into the safety of her soft skin, “But the Shadowwalker _couldn't_...”

“Whenever you want.” Vir promised him, “Whenever you _need_... so long as I can still have your tongue sometimes?”

He chuckled softly, kissing the back of her hand and flicking his tongue into the crease between her fingers to make her gasp, “I would not give _that_ up for anything.” he assured her, and their casually friendly relationship continued as it always had, just with a few more things they did with each other.

 

Maybe the shaky equilibrium the Shadowwalker and the Bulldog maintained couldn't last, but maybe it _could._

Maybe Nori was too careful and Dwalin never found any proof against him.

Maybe they both moved on, the pain of heartbreak fading with time.

 

Maybe Dwalin met someone else, someone he could talk to for hours, and laugh and fight and tumble with.

Maybe he married them, and was happy, and maybe they bore an heir for his and Balin's line, so that it would not fade.

Maybe they bore him more than one, and he loved his children with all the fire in his old warrior's heart.

 

Maybe Dwalin noticed that, while crime thrived in Erebor, the Company were never targeted. Maybe he noticed that when one of Bombur's sons was mugged, his attackers showed up on the guardhouse steps with broken legs and no memory of how they got there.

 

Maybe Dwalin noticed that crime came in waves in Erebor... that there would be a slow increase in violent crimes until one day it would _stop_.

Maybe he noticed that usually within a few weeks of the sudden drop in violent crime, Nori would come back from wherever he'd gone (and there was always proof that he _had_ gone where he said he had). Maybe Dwalin came to realize that the Shadowwalker's presence was a _stabilizing_ influence in the criminal world of Erebor. There was more theft but much less violence when he knew Nori was around than when he probably wasn't.

 

Maybe Dwalin stopped avoiding the gatherings of the Company that Dori would throw whenever Nori visited – though he never tried to approach or speak to Nori.

Maybe Dwalin's spouse and children liked Nori, because _everyone_ liked Nori. Maybe he said nothing when he saw Nori bouncing his babies on his knee, and only answered with “we were lovers once, but it did not end well.” when he was asked why _he_ didn't like Nori.

 

Maybe the Shadowwalker never grew kinder or less sharp with age. Maybe he lived to see his exhibitionist Haradi dancer age and return to die in Harad, and his Hobbit lasses return to the Shire to settle and live out the ends of their lives wealthy and disreputable there – and maybe they told him that there were a certain pair of lads, a Took and a Brandybuck, who might take kindly to an offer of adventure and employment that he never _did_ have the chance to contact.

He was white haired and quick and clever and still dreamed for his people as no one had ever dared to dream when there was a war, and all the free peoples of Middle Earth fought against Mordor.

 

Maybe Dwalin approached Nori on one of his visits and spoke of the servant of Mordor who was bringing an army to Erebor's doorstep, and maybe he suggested that it would be a great service and a benefit to _all_ Dwarves if someone could sabotage them so they were not at their full strength when they reached the Mountain.

Maybe the Shadowwalker did not even look at or say a single word to the Bulldog, and maybe he gathered some of his best and most loyal around him and crept out of the Mountain.

Maybe the army of Mordor was weakened from hunger when they reached Erebor, the majority of their food having been ruined beyond what even an Orc will eat. Maybe, if it was true, the Dwarves of Erebor never heard of it - or the story of how the saboteurs had been caught and eaten, of the brawls the starving Orcs had fought over just a mouthful of their corpses.

Maybe no one ever heard of the Shadowwalker again.

 

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Salvia_G for this, as it was spawned from our discussions in the comments of The Bulldog.  
> I did not intend to write any more in this verse.
> 
> Now with art by Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/82403475382/scene-from-the-possibilities-which-is-the-final


End file.
